You know what they say about food. That is it a shadow comfort, preventing you from expressing what you really need, what you really feel, what you really want.
But what if what you really need is a specific food that will fill your senses, your mind, your body, your soul, that will elevate you to the heights you need to go at that specific day, that specific time, that specific season of your life?
You probably go around it, avoiding it. Taking a substitute instead. But you really know that only that piece of pleasure in your mouth will be able to get you up the hill and into creativity mode, transporting you to Paris, alongside your handsome flirt, fresh off your bedsheets. It is what will put your mind in Paris mode to go on with your novel, to give a spring in your step, and the audacity to apply for that job requiring travelling and speaking French.
However, you name your soul lifting phantasy, a shadow comfort, you go about and empty the fridge of cheese, and the day before lasagna leftovers, and then you raid the back of the cupboard for hidden hideous biscuits you bought for such “just in case” moments.
You swallow them together with your frustration and the self-hatred, diminishing yourself because you don’t have the character to stand up to your arch-enemy, food, and they hate you back: they go and sit on your buttocks, your heavy legs, your double chin. See? Hatred goes both ways.
You blame yourself; you despise yourself. Then you become hopeless. You will never get the body your boyfriend repeats that he loves on that reality tv show player. You will never wear a bikini. You will never get rid of that person who hijacked your body and turned you into your mother. Wait! Was it your mother who did this to you? Wasn’t she the one who stuffed you with candy whenever you were crying? Why did she do that? Because she was jealous of you, that’s why! Because you were unwanted and unloved. Because she wanted you to be fat and desperate and stick your misery with hers to alleviate her burden.
Does this sound right? Is that you inside these lines? I’d be glad if you would let me know and we’d discuss it and I’d help you if you let me.
Listen to me: If the desire hits you and you know that only that éclair staring at you from that patisserie shop window will do it, then please, offer yourself the pleasure. Put it in your basket, take it home, let it sit. Look at it. Take it in your hand, then slowly stick your teeth in that only slightly resisting flesh coloured bread. Then feel the crème patissière entering your mouth, let the perfume of vanilla invade you, welcome it, appreciate it, thank it.
Now you know: only what you need will ever satisfy you. Now you know, all the theories about shadow comforts are shadow comforts, and only you know what you desire and how to get it.
Go buy yourself that éclaire!